


An Orchid Keeps Its Secrets

by Wasuremono



Category: The Author of the Acacia Seeds - Ursula K. Le Guin
Genre: Gen, Orchids, References to Wasp Sex, Wasps, Xenolinguistics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasuremono/pseuds/Wasuremono
Summary: An insect linguist discusses a case study in orchid linguistics and defends the concept of plant art, with an aside about wasp love poetry.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	An Orchid Keeps Its Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_ragnell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/gifts).



> WARNING: there are a lot of references to wasps in this one, although they're not doing anything more offensive than, er, copulating with flowers. And writing poetry about it. 
> 
> This is such a great canon, and it was a joy writing for it and extrapolating about its universe. I hope you enjoy, and happy Yuletide!

**The Art of _Cryptostylis_ : A New Case Study in Phytolinguistics**  
as originally published in _Xenolinguistics Letters_ , Vol. 56 Issue 8  
submitted by Dr. G. H. Daelman, Professor of Entomolinguistics, Amherst College

One of the principal problems of the emerging field of phytolinguistics is the question of medium. Since the earliest days of speculation on plant language, the problem of how precisely these sessile beings might express themselves -- and how human scientists, biased towards animal-based active language forms both through the field of therolinguistics and through our own nature as animals, might perceive and comprehend these expressions -- has produced substantial skepticism as to the viability of phytolinguistics as a field, as well as a growing body of research to address that skepticism. Most of the establishing research in phytolinguistics has focused on communication via chemical release, but while several serviceable lexicons of major species' most common chemical "alerts" have been produced, the evidence for true art or language has been scarce. However, in this June's issue of the _Journal of Phytolinguistics_ (Volume 7 Issue 6), Maymuru et al. present compelling evidence of internal molecular art in a little-studied plant genus.

Dr. Maymaru and her colleagues at Monash University focused on _Cryptostylis_ , or tongue orchids, a genus known for their unusual floral anatomy and methods of pollination. _Cryptostylis_ engages in pseudocopulation -- that is to say, their flowers are shaped and colored like a female of the ichneumon wasp species _Lissopimpla excelsa_ , inducing male _L. excelsa_ to copulate with the flower and be covered in its pollen, which the hopeful wasp will carry to another flower. Pseudocopulation and similar pollination strategies have been of great interest to phytolinguists, working on the theory that the insects that serve as reproductive intermediaries may serve as artistic intermediaries as well: messengers or performers of plants' compositions. In the case of _Cryptostylis_ and _L. excelsa_ , however, Maymaru discovered the opposite: that certain linguistic chemicals produced by _L. excelsa_ , typically exuded as part of its love poetry, were present in _Cryptostylis_ rhizome cells in intact forms, often conjugated with apparent linguistic proteins of the orchid's manufacture. Instead of transferring its own art, _Cryptostylis_ listens and retains the love song of the wasp.

This discovery has already sparked debate among linguists of Wasp, who point out that Wasp love poetry contains no references to pseudocopulatory orchids, and that Wasp communication in general contains only a stunted and functional lexicon of flower-related words (compared to, say, the luxurious pastoral lexicon of conversational Bee). They suggest that any communication passing from wasp to flower is unlikely, and that this retention is likely coincidence or a part of some other process. If any skeptical Wasp linguists are reading this letter, I would urge them to correspond with Dr. Ashley Tuivasa of the University of Sydney, whose research is in pre-publication but shows great promise in decoding the messages preserved by _Cryptostylis._ The chemicals thus far identified are very specific signals in the Wasp lexicon, many corresponding to the Ichneumon dialect's many expressions currently translated as "lover" or "partner"; this suggests that our failure to detect the presence of the orchid in Wasp poetry may be a factor of our perception, not of the wasp poets' choice of subjects. Traditional analysis has assumed that pseudocopulatory interactions would be regarded negatively or neutrally -- as deception or betrayal, or simply as indistinguishable from other encounters -- but unquestionably a confusing omission from the candid, often crass, but keenly observed love poetry of the wasp. If instead, these poets regard orchids as unusual and distinct but welcome partners, this illuminates their presence in the poetry and offers answers to questions regarding subject matter and artistic choices in the known body of work.

At this point, the therolinguistic reader may ask: if the wasp, then, sings to the orchid, and the orchid listens and retains that song, can that really be said to be the orchid's art? The key to this question, I feel, rests in the conjugated proteins and other chemical additions made by the orchid to the base compound exuded by the wasp. While translation of these additions has not yet begun due to an as-of-yet limited vocabulary, they serve no clear cellular purpose and closely resemble signaling molecules exuded for communication by other genera of flowering plants. Evidence suggests that these are likely additions, annotations, or commentary on the wasp's chemical text; while some of these may be critical commentary or the orchid's personal notes, the length of many of the additions relative to the original molecule suggests the creation of transformative works, or perhaps original works that only reference wasp poetry as a formative canon. 

Of course, many of these descriptions rely on concepts of criticism and canon that draw from the therolinguistic tradition, and from therolinguistic assumptions about what constitutes art and art appreciation. This touches upon the most important problem in phytolinguistics: if plant communication is limited and passive, to what degree can any of their expressions be considered art? Put more plainly, does art require an audience? Complicating this matter is the still-emergent field of phytocognition and the questions it raises about distributed plant consciousness. New evidence suggests that what we consider to be a single plant may in fact be a community of many individual minds. Consider the work of Farber et al., as published in both _the Journal of Phytolinguistics_ and _Plant Cognition_ , presenting evidence that transfer of information between dying and emerging layers of vascular cambium in various deciduous tree species more closely represents knowledge transfer between generations in a community than retention of memory by an individual. The audience for the art of the orchid may be present entirely within what we perceive as a single plant. 

Beyond this, though, is a broader question of our biases. When we ask whether art requires an audience, in relation to animal art, the answer is always a resounding "no." The work of reclusive or isolated artists artists, never intended to be seen by anyone besides its creator, obviously retains its status as art. Even fleeting performances are given this dignity; a solitary shark, performing her kinetic poetry in a sea empty of her kin, is still a poet. Nonetheless, the bias against phytolinguistics remains strong enough that we demand that plant art be defined only by animal standards. _Cryptostylis_ presents a beautiful example of both artistic appreciation and artistic creation; the only stumbling block is that this genus prefers to keep its romantic art, drawn from its own experiences, to itself. Can we not permit ourselves to accept that these private expressions are clearly art?

The long and checkered history of all branches of xenolinguistics shows us, over and over, that we must view language and art with an open mind. My older readers may remember when the study of Wasp poetics was considered a fool's errand, or an unfortunate joke; now, even the most staid mammalian therolinguist owns a copy of Nakamori's translation of _My Consort in the Autumn Orchard._ Giving due consideration to the artistic corpus of a new species, or genus, or form of life enriches our entire field, and the phytolinguists are laying the groundwork for untold artistic wonders. We live in a world of untold voices; while some may be private, seeking no audience but its own, or seemingly unapproachable, we will be the richer for understanding them as well as we can.


End file.
